Nightstalkers: Legacies
by damageddementia
Summary: A series of one shots to compliment Nightstalkers. The war between demons and Nightstalkers bleeds into the lives of ordinary people. Some will fight against the demons, others will join them, but all their lives will never be the same again.
1. Rosa Rubicundior

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera, or anything remotely recognizable.**

**I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.**

**These are going to be one shots, and I'm going to make as few of them with Matt as the main character as possible. They're all in the Nightstalker universe, and they all have to do with the story; I guess this'll tide you over until I get that sequel going. Oh, and the next one shot will either be Nevermore (Raven's story), Playing the Part (Mickie's story), or Fateful Promises (Ruby's story). Tell me which one you'd rather see in the review, and I'll write that one next. In fact, I could write any character's story- so long as they're pertinent to the sequel. So, onto the chapter- Gangrel, Christian, and Adam's story.**

**Warnings: Not for the squeamish or faint of heart. Violence, abuse, angst, and other bad things. In fact, in the Nightstalkers chapters with him, some people said Gangrel's character sounded like a pedophile- and this chap does nothing to refute that. You've been warned; if you continue despite the warning, everything else is of your own volition, and you can't blame me if you are offended. That being said, on with Rosa Rubicundior.**

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**Rosa Rubicundior**

**Red like blood.  
White like bone.  
Red like solitude.  
White like silence.  
Red like the senses of a beast.  
White like the heart of a god.  
Red like molten hatred.  
White like chilling cries of pain.  
Red like the shadows that feed on the night.  
Like a sigh piercing the moon  
It shines white, and scatters red.**

**Rosa Rubicundior, Lilio Candidor (Redder than the Rose, Whiter than the Lily)**

_Christian was walking on a beach, moving like he knew where he was going. Even though he was only ten, he knew this place better than anywhere, knowing he wouldn't get lost. Dad brought him and the other orphans here for picnics, but this place meant more to Christian than that. It was his refuge; he would come here every time he was mad, sad, or confused. It was the most calming place in the world, and Christian loved coming here._

_He heard his name called out, and he searched for the body the voice belonged to. The voice sounded familiar, but he had no idea from where he heard it..._

"Christian! Wake up, you lazy goon!" Ten year old Adam kicked his younger brother, trying to wake him up. Although they weren't related by blood, there wasn't a moment in Adam's life where he could remember not being with Christian, taking care of him and making sure he didn't get into trouble.

Christian's mother died giving birth to him. She had no home, no identification, no previous medical history, and she died before she could even give him a name. The doctors left Christian at the orphanage they now called home, where their father gave Christian his name. Six months later, Adam was abandoned at that very same orphanage. No name, no note saying 'take care of my baby'... his parents just left him there. Their father also named him, and Adam and Christian grew up together. Adam didn't know if he actually was older than Christian, but he always acted older, so he became the older brother.

"Christian! Get up, stupid!" He kicked Christian again, and he woke with a start, jumping up. He glared at Adam, rubbing his arm where the long haired blonde kicked him.

"Ow," Christian said, "You didn't need to do that, Addy."

"Don't call me that," Adam said. "Look around you! It's sundown! You were supposed to be home ages ago!"

"I'm sorry," Christian said, "Gimme a break. I meant to come home on time, but then I started watching the waves, and I... I lost track of time, I guess."

"You always lose track of time," Adam said, rolling his eyes. He grabbed Christian's hand and pulled him to his feet, sand falling off of Christian's clothes and shoulder length hair as he stood upright. "Come on, dinner's ready, and Dad's going to be mad if we're late... again." The way he said it, Christian knew Adam was blaming him for all the times they've been late.

They ran to the orphanage, Adam holding Christian's hand, unwilling to let the sillier child distract himself with anything. Christian could be given two pots and he'd entertain himself for hours on end. When they finally reached the orphanage, both boys were out of breath, quickly running to the dining room table.

The other orphans- Ian, Shelley, and Shannon- all ooed as they sat down, and Shannon sang "Somebody's in trouble."

"Oh hush, Shay," Christian said, "Or I'll tell Dad who took the five dollars from his wallet." Shannon frowned, and she stook her tongue out at Christian. She was only eight, but she was definitely a troublemaker, and she took great pleasure in blaming any of the others for her acts.

Shelley was the baby, only five, and she pretty much did whatever Ian did. Ian was nine and that somehow made him think he understood the world better than anyone. He took great pleasure in making people feel stupid and by making himself seem smart. "Where were you?" Ian asked.

"In none your business land," Christian shot back.

"Actually, that's a question I'd like an answer to." Christian and Adam turned around and saw their Dad, David Heath, behind them. Christian looked down in shame as David crossed his arms, putting the ashamed gaze on the two blondes. "I told you we were having dinner at five. It's five thirty. Where were you?"

"Dad, it was my fault," Christian started, "Addy was only late because he went out looking for me..." David punched the wall, making all the kids jump. Christian's eyes widened with fear as David looked at him angrily.

"When I say five, Christian, what do I mean?" He snarled. Christian shivered, and he said, "Answer the question!"

"Five, sir," Christian said. David blinked, unable to believe he was acting so harshly to the kid, so he walked over and put his hand through Christian's silken locks.

"Listen Christian," he said softly, "I'm sorry I scared you like that, but you're only ten. You can't stay outside at all hours of the day. And what if something happened to you and Adam because you decided to stay out so late?"

"I'm sorry Dad," Christian said softly, "I won't do it again, I promise."

"Good boy." David rubbed his head and said, "Well, whose hungry?"

*****************

That night, when they were all in bed, Adam felt someone shake him awake. He looked up and saw Ian, who told him quietly to follow him. They went out of the room and into the bathroom. "What's going on?" Adam asked.

"Look at this." Ian handed Adam a bill for the rent, and Adam was shocked to see that the rent was three months late.

"Did you show the others this?" Adam asked.

"You think I want to scare Shay and Shel like that?" Ian asked, "Don't you see? This is why Dad's been so crazy lately. He doesn't know how we're going to keep staying here." It was true; their Dad hasn't been himself lately. He was usually a very patient man, but lately, he'd yell at them for the smallest of things, or he'd hit one of them, only to snap out of it and apologize. The rent problem could possibly be the reason.

"We have to be on our best behavior, then," Adam said, "We have to make it as easy on Dad as possible."

"I'm trying. But you know Shay; she likes stirring up messes. And then there's Christian..."

"Christian's nothing like Shay," Adam argued.

"Yeah, but he's careless. He doesn't think about consequences; he just does stupid things like sleeping at the beach. And if Christian got kidnapped, imagine how that would look on Dad. In a way, he's worse than Shay." Adam didn't want to agree with him, but he could actually see Ian's point. "Do something, Adam. He listens to you. Maybe you could get him to stop being so dumb."

"He doesn't listen to me," Adam grumbled, "Christian does want Christian wants to do."

"Well, Tian listens to you more than any of us... come on. I'll take care of Shay if you could keep Christian in line."

"Alright, I'll see what I can do."

Christian moved away from the door to the bathroom, sneaking downstairs so he wouldn't get caught eavesdropping. He couldn't believe it. They were having money problems? He didn't want to make things worse on their Dad, but apparently, he was. And he was worse than Shay? He couldn't help but feel angry at himself.

Christian sat on the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Adam and Ian to go back to bed. He held his knees to his chest, and his hair covered his face as he thought about what he should do. He knew he couldn't get a job, but he could try to not be so careless.

"Christian?" Christian raised his head and locked eyes with his father, who looked at him with worried eyes. "Christian, my child, are you okay?" Christian nodded, but David Heath could see through the ten year old easily. "Come on; would you like some hot chocolate?" Christian nodded again and followed David into the kitchen. He made them both hot chocolate and gave Christian one of the mugs. "Be honest with me, Christian. Are you truly okay?"

Christian shook his head. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I cause."

"What was that?" He said, confused.

"I cause trouble for you... I'm sorry, Daddy. I don't mean to..." David sighed and grabbed Christian's hand.

"Christian, you're only ten. It's your job to cause trouble every now and then. But I don't blame you for it; Christian, as long as your heart is in the right place, I could never blame you for having fun."

Christian smiled at him. "I promise I'll try to follow the rules better."

"I know you do." David stood up, clapping his young son's shoulder. "Try to get some sleep. You have school tomorrow." Christian nodded, finished his hot chocolate, and ran up the stairs. David smiled and waited for Christian to be upstairs before going to the den. His smile disappeared as he looked at the check he got from the government for the children's upbringing. It was hardly enough to keep feeding them and to get them coats for winter, much less pay the rent for the building.

He gritted his teeth and punched the desk, his fingers leaving indents in their wake. He blinked, unable to believe he did that to his own desk. He'd never been that strong a man, and he just broke his hardwood desk. He slumped in the seat and put his head in his hands. "What's happening to me?" he whispered. He wanted to see a doctor, but he couldn't spend the children's money on himself. He didn't have a history of mental illness in his family, but with all that was happening lately- the hunger that never seemed to go away, the sudden violent behavior- he wasn't sure of anything.

He just had to remember that the children were his first priority. Adam, Christian, Ian, Shannon, and Shelley came first. His stomach grumbled, and he wondered why, even after dinner, he felt so empty.

* * *

"Shay!" Ian shouted out, putting Shelley's book bag on her back, "Shay! Time to go to school!"

Christian and Adam ran down the stairs, a wet spot on Christian's shirt. Ian could tell he brushed his teeth before he put on his clothes, although their dad always told Christian not to do that; he had a tendency of letting the toothpaste drop on his shirt. Ian silently told Adam with a glare that he was supposed to be keeping Christian from doing stupid things. Adam just shrugged, thinking how was he supposed to keep Christian from being an idiot in the bathroom.

"What is she still doing up there?" Christian asked.

"Who knows? SHAY!"

Shannon came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her waist, her bottom lip trembling. Adam grew concerned and said, "Shay, are you okay?"

"Something's wrong with me," she said, sounding on the verge of tears, "I don't know where it's coming from... God, help me..."

"What's wrong?" Ian asked. Still shivering, she put up her hand- her fingers were coated with blood. "I'm bleeding..."

The front door opened, and David came in. "Well, come on, it's time to go to school! What's taking so long?"

"Shay's bleeding..." Shelley said, pointing up the stairs.

"Are you okay, Shannon?" David ran up the stairs to Shay, who shook her head. "Where are you bleeding from?"

"I don't know, I went to the shower and there was blood all over my panties... Daddy, help me!" Shay cried out. David wrapped his arms around her, trying to comfort her, but then something strong smelling hit his nose. It was a delightful smell, making him almost moan. He needed to taste whatever was making such a delicious aroma, and he was so hungry...

He grabbed Shay's hand, lifting it, studying the blood that coated her fingers. It was the origin of the odor, and he gagged inside, knowing that he desired the blood, but at the same time wanting to suck the bright red substance from Shay's small hand. "Daddy..." Shay finally said, frightened by what he was doing. He shook his head, breaking the hypnotic spell her fingers had on him, and he said, "Shay, I think you're becoming a woman."

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." he turned to Adam, Christian, Ian, and Shelley, smiling softly. "I guess we're going to be late for school. Adam, can you take them to the school today? I have to take care of Shannon." Adam nodded. "Alright now, all three of you, listen to Adam, and hold each other's hands on the way. I'll see you after school."

***************

David came home after dropping Shay off at school. He didn't think he'd have to deal with her getting her period until she was at least eleven, but he heard they sometimes came early.

He walked to the bathroom to clean Shay's mess and paused, the strong scent of blood hitting his nose again. There were droplets on the floor, and Shay's underwear, soaked with her blood, was also on the ground. He knelt down in front of it and, before he could stop himself, he was lapping up the drops. Each taste was amazing, unlike anything he'd ever eaten before. He then grabbed the underwear and sniffed it, the scent driving him wild. He needed more, needed...

He dropped the underwear in horror. Good God, he just licked blood off the floor. Even worse; he loved every last bit of it! He was sniffing his daughter's underwear! He bolted out of the bathroom and into the hall, collapsing into a ball. How could this have happened? What was happening to him?

And why did he want, no, why did he _need _more blood?

* * *

Adam sat on a swing during recess, focusing his eyes on his feet. Christian took the swing next to him and began to slowly pump, not going too high. "Addy?" Christian called out.

Adam looked at him, shaking his head. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Always one more time, Addy," Christian teased. "So, what was up with Shay?"

"Girl issues," Adam said, "Issues that you and I will never have to deal with, thank God." Christian laughed, and Adam's mouth curled into a smile.

"So," Christian said, "We should go down to the beach one more time before it closes for the winter. Once Shay gets better, that is. Maybe it'll be good for all of us."

"You'd go back to the beach with or without us."

"Yeah, well, I happen to like family time. And besides, what's a true beach trip without a splash fight with my Addy?"

"Will you stop- oh, whatever." Adam laughed. "You're going to kill me, Christian."

"You know you couldn't live without me." The bell rang, and Adam got off the swing. Christian followed him and they went back inside the school.

******************

Nothing was enough.

For the last few weeks, David had been trying to eat, but nothing was enough. And now that he knew what he wanted, it took all his mental prowess to keep the craving in check. Then, on the way to the school to pick up the kids, he saw a figure sprawled on the ground. It was a dog, and it obviously got into a scuffle with another dog. It was bleeding and near death, and David couldn't hold back anymore. He sniffed at the air, and all he smelled was the blood. It called to him, begged him to taste it, and the next thing he knew, he was bending over the animal, lips to the wound, teeth extending into sharp fangs for the first time ever.

He didn't even hear the soft whimpers from the dog's mouth as he drained his life. All he knew was the taste, the taste of life. It seemed like only a moment to him, but he later learned that it was longer; he was late by a whole half an hour to the school.

Soon, more dogs went missing, only to have their bodies turn up, bloodless, in alleys. The town was in an uproar, but David couldn't bring himself to care. All that mattered was that he was stronger now; no longer hungry. And now his fits of anger were further apart; the more he ate, the less likely he was to snap at the children. He still did, but not as often.

What this meant to Ian, Christian, and Adam was that the financial problems were finally ending.

When Shay got her period the second time, David smelled it, and he could almost feel himself drooling. He shook his head; it was one thing to drink from pets, but he couldn't drink from his own daughter. He told the kids he was going to the store and left the house, trying to distance himself from Shay and keep from hurting her.

He leaned against a dumpster and tried to contain himself, but he couldn't; he was hungry, and he needed to eat. Suddenly, the sound of a woman's high heels clunking down the sidewalk invaded his senses, and he could smell her blood. He could almost hear it circulating through her veins. He was so hungry, and, well, better her than his little Shannon.

He started towards the woman, faster than he ever thought he could. She turned suddenly, afraid, dropping her purse and causing its contents to fall across the sidewalk. She hardly had time to scream before David moved in for the kill.

He sunk his fangs into her neck and sucked roughly until her eyes fluttered shut for the last time. Her blood was more delicious than any other meal he'd ever had before... well, except that first time. Shay's blood, splattered against the tiles, was definitely better than anything else he'd ever had.

David felt a pang of guilt then, thinking about his cravings and the woman. He prevented her from ever returning home. Maybe she'd been a mother, a lover, a child, and he ripped her away from her family, her home, her life.

But he couldn't allow himself to lose control. He couldn't allow himself to attack Shay, or any of his children. If people filled him up more, and gave him more control during Shay's (and eventually Shelley's) periods, than he was willing to handle it. He only had to take care of his children; no one else mattered.

And besides, he needed to eat.

* * *

"Come back!" Shay hollered. Christian just laughed, waving her test, which she got 53% on, in front of her. She ran after him, screaming out what she plotted to do to him once she caught him.

For the past two months, all anyone could talk about was whatever was draining animals- and sometimes people- of their blood. There was now a curfew on the town, and Christian and the other children weren't allowed to go out alone or after seven. Bored, Christian got his fun where he could, and that was taunting Shay.

"What are you-" Ian moved out of the way, cut off mid-sentence, before Christian or Shay could bulldoze him. Christian laughed and they sped through the halls, having no courtesy for anyone. Adam went over to Ian and said, "What the hell?"

"Stop them!" Ian shouted, flustered. Adam laughed a little, but then he heard a scream, and he rushed over to where he heard it from. "Christian!" Adam shouted out. He could hear loud sobs, and Shay's voice apologizing over and over again. Adam ran to the sound and found them at the door of the room, Christian's finger cradled in his other hand, Shay begging him for forgiveness and for him not to tell on her.

In the struggle, Christian's finger somehow got jammed in the door. His finger was mottled purple, and his nail was split in half, cutting into his skin and making a thin trickle to blood fall down his finger. "Come on," Adam said, helping Christian to his feet. He was still crying, but he did as Adam told him to, following him to the bathroom.

"Please Adam, I swear, I didn't mean to hurt him-"

"You won't get in trouble, Shay," Adam said, "Just go along." She nodded, said sorry to Christian one last time, and ran off. Adam put Christian's finger under the cold water, hoping it would dull the pain at least a little.

In a few minutes, the door shut, telling them their father was home. Ian ran downstairs and told David everything. He went upstairs and the familiar, enticing, coppery smell hit him like a wave. He stopped, wanting to see what was wrong with Christian, but also not wanting to hurt him.

Finally, he swallowed the thirst, reminding himself to get a nice stray at night after he took care of the children, and he went up to the bathroom. "Christian, are you alright?" he asked. Christian nodded, biting his lip to keep back another sob. David kissed his forehead comfortingly and said, "It was Shay, wasn't it?"

Christian didn't nod, but his silence told David all he needed to know. He left the room and found Shay, upset, on the bed, still remorseful over what she did to Christian. She looked up, and-

SMACK!

Her hand went to her cheek, unwilling to believe her Dad just did that. "Are you an idiot?" David screamed, "Do you see what you did to Christian? He'll have to go to the hospital and it's _all your fault_!"

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..."

"Like that'll magically fix Christian's finger!" He yelled. She began crying, and Ian and Shelley ran into the room. Adam told Christian to stay there and he went to the room also, watching him scold Shay.

"Stop it!" Adam yelled, "Dad, she said she was sorry! Don't make her feel bad..."

He turned on Adam, eyes red with anger. "Shut up!" Adam staggered, almost as if he was the one physically assaulted. Ian hugged Shelley close, and David pushed past them, going for the phone. He dialed the number for the ambulance and Adam went over to Shay, wrapping his arms around her. Things were going so well, and then this had to happen.

*******************

After Christian came out of the hospital, David spent money they didn't have to take the children out to dinner, trying to apologize for his actions. And it worked; things went back to normal in the Heath orphanage, even if there was mass hysteria outside over the monster draining bodies, both cainine and human, of their blood.

And for a few months in the winter, the calm returned. Then, spring began, and, even though neither Adam nor Christian knew it yet, their lives as they knew them were about to end.

Adam, Christian, and their friends all played soccer on the beach. Shay, Ian, and Shelley were on a playdate with the Martins, so David told the boys they could stay out until five forty today. Excited with the extra forty minutes, the boys had a great time. By the time the game ended, all the boys were dirty, and there were scraped elbows, knees, and a few bruises, but the boys felt like they were on top of the world.

"Did you see that final goal?" Christian said, as they walked back home. He brought back his leg and kicked the air, as if he were kicking a soccer ball. "I should join the league or something!"

"Nuh uh," Adam said, shaking his head, "We are going to join the 'Leafs, remember? The Heath brothers, knocking out teeth and slapping the puck more times into the goal than anyone,"

"Why can't I be both?"

"Because you can't have everything, Christian," Adam said, rolling his eyes.

"Says who?" Christian put his hands on his hips. "I'm going to be the 'Leaf's star player, I'll become the biggest thing in soccer, I'll be a billionaire philanthropist, and I'll own a Peeps factory."

"Idiot," Adam said, shoving Christian gently. They laughed, and Christian put an arm around Adam's shoulders and they walked home. They opened the door and Adam shouted out, "Dad, we're home!" They began walking to the den, to say hi to their father.

David's eyes closed; he could smell the blood Adam and Christian had stuck to their bodies. He clenched his fists and tried to fight the craving, reminding himself that he couldn't attack Adam and Christian, his oldest boys. Christian entered the room first and shouted out, "Hi Daddy!"

The smell was almost too much; he hadn't ate in five days, but he didn't think it would be that bad. How was he supposed to know that Christian and Adam would come home all cut up? He could hear Christian's heartbeat as he came closer, and all he could think about was draining life out of the boy... "GET OUT!" He roared.

Christian froze, unsure of what to do. Why did he yell? Did he do something wrong? "Daddy, is everything okay..."

David turned around and slapped Christian. Christian whimpered in pain, and Adam's mouth dropped, unsure of what happened. "When I say get out, you get out, you stupid child..." David snapped, trying not to look at Chrisitan's pale neck, see the pulse there, begging to be bitten.

"But Daddy..." David couldn't take it anymore. Christian smelled too delicious; his veins looked too inviting. Something inside him snapped, and everything that held him back was gone: all that was left was bloodlust. In a second, Christian was slammed against the wall of the den, his father's long fingers wrapped around his neck. Adam screamed as Christian struggled, his fear written plainly on his face.

"Let him go!" Adam yelled out, running over and pulling on his father's free hand's sleeve. With a careless, quick snap of the wrist, Adam flew across the room, hitting the wall. Christian yelled out Adam's name as he fell to the floor, whimpering and crying in pain.

Christian turned back to David when the pressure became greater, making him cough and sputter. "Please... Daddy... stop it..."

"My name," he said, without a trace of their father's warmth in his voice, "Is Gangrel." He moved his hand a little to expose Christian's throat, still holding him to the wall. He leaned in and sunk his teeth into Christian's throat, making Christian scream in agony. The sound was like music to his ears; he knew Christian was his son, but that made him want to drain Christian even more- after all, Christian and the rest of the silly brats drained him, taking all his money and his time. He was due his life, and Adam's, and Shannon, Ian, and Shelley's.

Christian's eyes shut in horror as his legs kicked, slipping against the wall. He could feel himself weakening, but that just made him want to escape more. His heart was racing wildly in his chest and he felt like he was on fire, like his whole body was being consumed by flames as his blood flooded into Gangrel's mouth.

BOOM! Shots fired out, and Gangrel ripped away from Christian's throat. He looked at the intruders angrily and ran away, deciding he couldn't take them on- not yet, at least. Christian fell to the floor, the world slipping away quickly. He was unconscious in a matter of seconds.

Adam looked at their saviors, two men with long blond hair. The more muscular one ran in the direction the man Adam once called father ran in, and the skinnier one ran over to Adam, cradling the child in his arms. "Are you okay?" He asked, his accent the kind Adam only heard in movies about the Wild West.

"Christian-" Adam said, pointing at his brother.

"He's going to be fine," the man said, "You both are."

* * *

Christian's eyes opened slowly, bandages all over. He sat up and saw that he was in a hospital bed, and that there was an needle in his arm. Adam, who stood with him all night, said "Thank God" and ran over to Christian, wrapping his arms around his neck.

"Addy," Christian said, "Addy, I had a dream."

"What was it about?" Adam asked.

"I was on the beach, and I heard someone call out my name. It was an angel, Addy, a beautiful one. And you know what it told me?"

"What?" Adam asked.

"That the man who attacked me wasn't Daddy. He said that the man who attacked me killed Daddy." Christian looked down sadly, and Adam said, "Oh Christian." He squeezed his brother tightly, wondering how he could begin to explain what happened. The man, he said his name was Shawn, said he'd take care of it, but Adam couldn't help but think about his Dad, and everything that happened.

Soon, Shawn and his partner, a man named Hunter, would come in that room and tell the boys that their lives were over, and that the children were going to be sent to different foster homes. Soon, they would give them an option to stay together, but would tell them that, in order for them to stay together, they would have to agree to harsh conditions. They would have to agree to give up their lives and begin hunting the things that go bump in the night.

But for now, they were just two boys, alone and scared, unsure what would happen next.

**Reviews deeply appreciated**


	2. Nevermore

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera, or anything remotely recognizable.**

**I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.**

**After this one, I'll do Vickie's story, which has no name yet. Playing the Part, Mickie's story, will be up after that, and then Fateful Promises, which is Ruby's story, and then I'll be done and will actually focus on writing the sequel. I know what will happen already pretty much, I just have to bang out a few details.**

**Raven, Rob, Sabu, Sandman, Dreamer, and Richards are all seventeen in this. Tazz would be forty. Yes, I know, not actual age differences, but I needed them to have a mentor, and Tazz was the first to come to mind.**

**Warnings: Violence, self gratification, angst, psychological trauma, and character death. Once again, no like, no read.**

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**Nevermore**

**The dreamer dies, but never dies the dream. Say nevermore that dreams are fragile things. -Who Dreams Shall Live by Charles A Mills**

Terry Brunk and Stevie Richards, two seventeen year olds, pressed their ears to the door of their mentor's office in the house they all shared. They were trying to listen to their mentor, Peter Senerchia, chew out their friends. Jim Fullington looked at them disappointedly, but he didn't stop them from listening; he, too, was interested in what was happening in that room. Unfortunately, Terry and Stevie only got fragments of words, and not the whole message.

The door suddenly opened, making Terry and Stevie fall on the floor. Rob Szatowski looked down at them, laughing. "Glad you found a place that suits you," he said, stepping over them. Tom Laughlin came next, a serious expression on his face, and then followed Scott Levy. He took one look at Stevie before kicking his ass. "And you wonder why we all call you bitch."

Stevie sat up and said, "Hey!" Everyone laughed except Tom, whose arms remained crossed. "Glad we can all laugh," he snapped.

Scott turned to Tom and said, "Come on, doughy. I swear it was an accident. I had no idea you'd fall into my trap."

"Liar," Tom snapped. Tom walked away, and Scott began wobbling, pretending that the ground was shaking from Tom's footsteps. Jim shook his head, trying not to laugh but failing miserably, before following Tom to calm him down.

Rob helped Jim and Stevie to their feet before turning to Scott. "You know you did that on purpose."

"Yeah, but Tom-Tom doesn't need to know that." Earlier, Peter split the six up into groups of three, telling them to play capture the flag. Rob, Scott, and Tom were all on the same team, and, when they were supposed to be looking for the other team's flag, Scott set a pitfall in the direction he knew Tom was going in. Once Tom pulled out of the hole, he and Scott began fighting, and Rob tried to break them up, leaving their flag unguarded.

Of course, Peter was furious at them, and he lectured them about responsibility and teamwork and what would happen when they all became Nightstalkers. Rob nodded and took it all in, Tom was too busy thinking about strangling Scott to really listen to their mentor, and Scott never listened to what anyone said anyway.

Peter liked calling Scott a 'degenerate', and it fit pretty well. Scott was nothing like the others; while they all had pretty clean cut looks, he had a more edgy one, more grunge like. But he liked being the outsider; it was a way of weeding out people who actually liked you from people who would leave you just because you wore eyeliner. And he genuinely liked all of his fellow 'students', even Tom. Tom was just too easy to make fun of.

"Come on, Scott." Rob threw an arm around Scott and began walking with him. "What if he decides that you and Tom are partners?"

"Then, as my friend, I expect you to put a gun to my head and put an end to my misery." Scott rolled his eyes back and pretended to die, and Rob just laughed.

"You have any idea how old Pete'll group us?" Terry asked.

Rob turned back and shrugged. "He might just pull it out of a hat."

"He wouldn't do that, would he?" Stevie asked, "I mean, that's not right-"

"Stevie."

"Yes?" Stevie said, looking at Terry.

"Shut up, bitch." Stevie frowned and pushed past Scott and Rob.

"And I see Stevie's got nothing to worry about with partners," Rob said sarcastically.

"Oh come on Robbie," Scott said, "If he wasn't such a bitch, we wouldn't call him that." He squeezed Rob, trying to get the golden boy to smile. "Come on, Robbie, admit it, you mentally affix bitch to the end of his name every time you say it."

"No, I don't."

"He's lying," Terry said. Rob couldn't help but laugh, and Scott smiled; he loved Rob's laugh a lot more than he wished to admit.

"I'm going to study," Rob said, pulling himself out of Scott's grip, "And if you two don't want Peter to kill us, you'd study too." Rob walked away, and Terry shouted after him "Teacher's pet!"

Scott walked faster, prepared to do whatever was needed to interrupt Rob's studying. After all, life was definitely not about reading about demons' weaknesses off of flash cards. He walked into the bedroom they all shared, which contained only three bunk beds and six shelves for clothing, and sat on Rob's bed.

"What're you doing?" He asked, taking the card Rob was reading. Rob gave him a look and he snatched the card back.

"I already told you; I'm studying," he said. Rob reached for his cards, trying to pull a new one, but Scott pilfered the deck.

"You already know them. Let's do something else," Scott implored.

"I know them because I _study_." Rob said, trying to grab at the deck. Scott kept it out of his reach, moving away from Rob's hands.

"You want the cards?" Scott said, jumping off of Rob's bed. "Well, come get them."

"Scott! I have to study; give them back!" Rob shouted. Scott ran, and Rob followed.

"If you want to study, you have to catch me!" Scott yelled behind him.

*****************

It was lights out, and the boys all climbed into their beds, although they had absolutely no intention of sleeping. Tom, Rob, and Jim all had bottom bunks, and Terry, Stevie, and Scott slept above them. Stevie looked up at the ceiling, trying to squint through the darkness, and said, "Back to the earlier subject. How do you think we're being split up?"

Jim sighed. "Stevie, he'll break us up by who we compliment the best. Like I'm not the best fighter, but I'm pretty damn good with a gun. So I'd get someone who can fight great, but isn't as good with weapons."

"Or maybe he picks it out of a hat," Terry said, "Come on, think about it. Does old Pete really think everything through? We did Capture the Flag as training today."

"It boosts your ability to understand your opponent, intuition, and hand to hand combat skills," Rob said, "And besides, would you rather do that 'camping trip' again?" And by camping trip, he meant that Peter abandoned them in the woods with nothing but a match, a rope, and a blanket.

"Oh hell no," Tom said, shivering at the thought of that trip.

"Don't remind Tommy about the times we were missing food!" Scott said. Tom glared at him, and Scott just shrugged.

"You know what? I hope they team you two together," Jim snapped.

"Jim!" Scott gasped, "I thought you were my friend! How could you wish me to be paired with the human waste disposal?"

"That's it, Levy, I'm going to ki-"

"Relax, Tom," Rob said, "Scott just makes fun of you to cover up his man crush on you."

"Not funny, Szatowski," Scott said, shaking his head, "Not funny at all."

"He called you queer," Stevie chuckled.

"Shut up, bitch."

* * *

The next day, Peter made them run an obscene amount of laps, because, judging by how much talking they were able to do last night, he went too easy on them. They were all exhausted going into shooting practice, pushing up all their hit to miss ratios in favor of miss.

Scott couldn't help but notice that Rob's was actually the worst of the bunch. Despite his success in other areas, Rob had always had problems shooting. Scott always wanted to ask him about it, but a good time to ask him never came up.

Tom threw himself on his bed as soon as they were dismissed. "Fucking laps. My legs feel like jello."

Jim sat on his bed. "Tell me about it. Damn, I could hardly carry myself here."

Terry and Stevie both, with some effort, climbed up to their beds. "Shit," Terry said, "Hey, where's Rob?"

"I dunno," Stevie said. "Ah, he's probably kissing Peter's ass or something."

"Shut up," they all said. Stevie crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, moving to face the wall.

"It's not like we have to worry about him," Jim said, "If it were Scott or Terry missing, I'd be afraid that they'll pull a prank that would get us all in deep shit, but it's Rob. Rob's got a pretty good head on his shoulders."_I'd say._

Scott said, "Look, I'll go find him. He's probably on the toilet or something." Scott walked out and went to the bathroom first, but it was empty. He then looked all over the house, but it soon became evident that Rob wasn't in the house. He went outside and began searching the grounds, and he eventually found Rob far out, nearly next to the road out of the property, behind a bush. A bottle of vodka was in his hands, and the bottle was already a third empty, showing Rob had a good amount to drink.

"Busted!" Rob snapped around, and Scott grinned, sitting next to Rob. "The goodie goodie sneaks off to drink alcohol. Who would've known?"

"People unwind different ways. I personally prefer smoking weed, but I couldn't get my hands on some, so I stole this from Peter's stash. He won't notice it missing." Rob took a swig of it before holding it out to Scott. "Want some?"

"Love some." Scott took the bottle and took a sip. "You smoke weed?"

Rob nodded. "Terry usually lights up with me, but he hates vodka, so I didn't tell him about this."

"Look at you, Mr. Rebel." Scott said, jokingly, "Weed, vodka, stealing..."

"I never get too high, and I never get drunk. It's all about discipline." Rob grabbed the bottle and drank some more. "It's like my Dad used to say; as long as you can control yourself, you can have fun."

"I've never heard you talk about your Dad."

Rob shrugged. "He was a gym coach. He was chock full of lessons on how to live life; he was a man of absolutes. He believed that, if you wanted to do something, you should aim to be the best at it. He believed that we all have a duty, and we have to put that first. I learned a lot from him."

"What happened to him?" Scott asked. Rob focused his eyes on the bottle, not looking at Scott. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it, then you don't have to."

Rob shook his head. "It's okay. My dad made a lot of his students his enemies at the time; he was hard, though fair. Some lower level rage demon made this kid's anger at him grow, and he attacked my family. He shot my father right in front of my mother and I, and then he shot my mom." A tear formed near Rob's eye, and he said, "He came up to me next. He told me to open my mouth, and he shoved the gun into it. Then, he told me that, if I told on him, he'd blow me to kingdom come. I was only eight."

Rob drank some more of the alcohol before saying, "I had no idea that demons even existed, or that one destroyed my family. I spent an entire year wondering why this kid would do that to my family. He wasn't a bad kid; he just hated teachers, like every other kid. But soon, more kids suddenly became violent, and a pair of Nightstalkers hunted him down. Peter eventually told me all of this, when he brought me here."

Scott put his hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Rob nodded. "You know, I never told anyone that. I was always afraid of saying it aloud- but it wasn't so bad. Thanks for listening."

Scott pulled Rob closer, hugging him close. "It's okay. Look at you now; you're on your way to being a great hunter. Your dad would be proud of you." Rob leaned his head against Scott's shoulder, and, like a flash, Scott could almost read Rob like a book; his dreams and nightmares, his hopes and fears slipping through his mind. Rob was afraid of guns, of being helpless, of letting his father down. He wanted to kill any demon that turned people against their family or friends. He had nightmares of that gun in his mouth again, pushing against the back of his throat, a finger twitchy against the trigger...

Scott pushed Rob away, the images too much for him. Rob looked at him and said, "Are you okay?"

Scott took a deep breath. "I just... I don't know. I had these weird visions-"

"Visions?" Rob studied him. "Maybe we should go to bed."

Scott nodded, ignoring the pit in his stomach, and he began walking back to the house with Rob. He allowed himself to wrap an arm around Rob's waist, and Rob smiled at him, thankful for the comfort. Scott smiled back and wondered if he could ever be a part of Rob's dreams.

* * *

Rob's hands ran down Scott's bare chest as he lay soft kisses on Scott's neck. Scott cupped Rob's ass and pushed him closer, and Rob moaned, his breath hitting Scott's neck. Scott cupped the back of Rob's knee and pulled it up, making it easier to rub their erections together, linking Rob's leg behind his back.

"God, Scott-" Rob said, voice ragged and filled with need. Scott pushed their lips together, pushing his tongue into Rob's mouth, tasting his friend-

Scott's eyes snapped open. He was covered it sweat, which made the sheets stick to his body. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm down, but his hardened cock, begging for attention, refused to go away.

He couldn't help it anymore. He stood up, quietly sneaking off to the bathroom. Once he got there, he sat on the floor, pulling down his pants and spreading his legs for better access. The mental picture of Rob's eyes hazy with lust, his long hair hanging around his face, his breath uneven pushed Scott to touching himself.

He bit on his lip to keep quiet as he continued stroking himself, imagining Rob on his back, opening his legs for him. He imagined Rob waiting for him, almost begging him to join him, to sleep with him.

The dream became more and more vivid, and the images of him and Rob together, bodies slapping in unison as Scott pushed in and out of his hole, made Scott jerk himself more roughly. As soon as his dream Rob yelled, reaching orgasm, he did as well, spurting all over his hand. He bit his lip so hard that it ripped, blood dripping down his chin. Jolts of pleasure ran through his body as he twitched against his hand, falling off the waves of ecstasy.

"I can't do this to myself." Scott put his head in his clean hand. He had feelings for Rob before, but he never did anything like this. He cleaned himself and the bathroom quickly and walked to the bedroom. When he opened the door, light filtered in and he was able to catch a glimpse of Rob. Sweat marred his forehead as well, and he looked more exhausted then he should have.

He went to his bed, and he suddenly saw five different pictures. The first was of Jim on a boat, sailing through a storm. The second was of Stevie sitting on a throne, eating fruit. The third was of Terry fighting a tiger with a club, and the one after that was of Tommy pushing a rock up a hill.

The last one was very familiar to him; it was the very fantasy he had just moments ago.

Scott started having more and more dreams that weren't his. Most of the times, he tapped into Stevie's, but he tapped into all of their dreams at least once. He knew the greatest fear of each and every one of his comrades, their deepest desires, their worst nightmares, and their most beautiful dreams.

He knew he shouldn't abuse the unexplainable power, but he found himself using his new found knowledge to play better pranks on Tom and Stevie. Tom, for one, was afraid of daddy long legs, of all things, and Scott found a few and put them in his bed. Stevie was afraid of splitting his pants in public and, well, that wasn't too hard to simulate.

Meanwhile, his own dreams of Rob were growing more and more frequent. He fantasized about him, owning him, making sweet sounds erupt from Rob's mouth. He couldn't imagine telling Rob anything about these dreams; he couldn't afford to lose him as a friend. But maybe, if Peter chose them to be partners, then he could tell Rob everything.

Once they all turned eighteen, it was time. They were all nervous, wondering how old Pete was going to choose the partners. Stevie littered each person with questions until they finally told him to buzz off or to shut up. The others were just as nervous, and didn't need Stevie bothering them with more worries.

Peter walked out of his office and to the kitchen, and all of them followed him, anxious about his announcement. "Well?" Stevie said.

"Hold your horses," Peter said, "Everybody take a seat." They each pulled out a chair, and then Peter said, "I'm proud of all of you. One day, you will all be great hunters, and I will be proud to say I trained you." Peter smiled at them, and said, "But soon, it'll be time for you all to split up. For that, I've decided, based on your time here, who your partners should be. Jim, I've paired you with Tommy."

Jim looked at Tom and nodded, and Tom gave him a thumbs up. "And Scott, I've paired you with Stevie, and Terry, you're with Rob."

Scott swallowed, trying to hold back his disappointment. He didn't want Stevie; that meant he would hardly see Rob, if ever, and Rob would be more preoccupied with hunting then their old friendship. It was Terry who would be his confidant, his friend, while Scott would become nothing more than an acquaintance.

Stevie threw an arm around Scott. "We're going to be partners!" He said excitedly, "Can you believe it?"

_I don't want to believe it._

Scott forced himself to smile and throw an arm around Stevie as well. It wasn't that he didn't like Stevie, despite all the times he called him a bitch- it's just that Stevie wasn't Rob. "It's going to be great, isn't it?"

"I know, right?" He could hear Stevie's fears booming in his ears- Stevie didn't want to get him. Stevie was afraid of setting off with Scott, after all the verbal abuse he put him through the past few years, but he hoped that Scott would become kinder once everyone was gone and it was just the two of them.

_You shouldn't be so sensitive, bitch._

Scott stood up, acting kind, congratulating everyone, but he really wanted to just get away. When he eventually got away, he went to the firing range and began doing target practice, wanting to take out his frustrations on something.

"Scott." Scott didn't turn around; he didn't want to see Rob right then and there. It would just serve as a reminder that he wouldn't be seeing him as much anymore.

"What?"

"Scott, don't what me." Rob grabbed his shoulder. "Put down the gun so we can talk."

"About?"

"You. There's something wrong with you." Rob turned him around and took the gun. "You think I can't see through that act? You being all buddy buddy with Stevie? Come on, Scott, I know you better than that. You love teasing Stevie." Rob waited for Scott to talk, but Scott had no idea what to say to that. "Is this about having Stevie as a partner?"

"Stevie and I will be fine."

"But did you want somebody more?" Rob urged, "Or did you just want Stevie the least?"

"Rob. It'll be fine." Scott looked over at the targets before asking, "Want to join me?"

Rob shook his head. "No thanks, I-"

"Come on, you have to get your hit to miss ratio better," Scott said, "I can get you a gun, it's not a problem."

Rob pushed back his fears and smiled. Scott could feel it; Rob was afraid of guns. All he could think about when he held one was that a barrel was once in between his lips. Scott went over to the cupboard and pulled out a gun, walking back over to Rob. "You don't need to be scared of it," Scott said, "This time, the power is in your hands. You're the one with the ability to give and to take life."

Rob's eyes widened with surprise. "You know?"

"After you told me that story about your past, I just guessed," Scott admitted. "Look, you have to get over it. Remember what your dad said, about being the best if you're going to do something?"

Rob grinned. "You sure did listen." Rob pointed the gun at a target, barely missing it. "I'm getting better, though. You'll see. I'm a Szatowski; we don't let silly stuff like fear hold us back." Scott grinned and walked up behind him, taking Rob's hands in his, holding the gun as well.

"First, you have to learn how to shoot before you can do it fearlessly," Scott said, "Bring the gun to eye level, so you can see the trajectory." Scott picked Rob's hands up, helping him put it at eye level. "You lock onto the target with your eyes and then you pull the trigger." Scott let go of his hands and said, "Try it!"

Rob pulled the trigger, his bullet slamming into the top corner of the target. Not a bulls-eye, but it was closer than before. "I'll get there," Rob said. Scott laughed, but, inside, he wondered how he could possibly say goodbye to Rob.

*******************

"So," Jim said, standing in the front of the room, looking at his five friends on their beds. "Today's the day when we finally get the tattoos that make us Nightstalkers. We are finally becoming men."

"Stop with the speech!" Terry yelled. He jumped off his bed and went to his shelf, pulling a bottle of wine out from under his clothes. "We need to celebrate the right way."

"How'd you get that?" Stevie asked.

"Stevie, just shut up and get down here," Terry said, rolling his eyes. Rob pulled a few cups out of under his bed, and he said, "Strange. I only have four."

Terry turned and looked at him. "I told you to get six. There's six of us, you know."

"Yeah," Rob said. He got a weird feeling, looking at the four cups, but he ignored it and went to get two more. He handed each person in the room a cup and Terry poured all of them a good measure.

"To surviving Peter freaking Senerchia," Terry said.

"Amen," Tommy nodded, all their cups touching. Soon, Peter came and told them all to come to the living room; the tattoo artist had arrived. The six went to the front and Peter said, "So, whose going first?"

"Me," Jim said, raising his hand. He walked over first, rolling up his sleeve and sitting on the couch. As the artist went to work, Jim bit his lip, holding back the tell tale signs of pain. Eventually, Jim stood up, the triquetra fresh on his arm, and a grin of triumph on his face. After him, Tom went, and then Rob went. Stevie took one look at the needle and said, "Uh- is there anyway we can skip this part?"

Peter crossed his arms. "Stevie, you can't be serious."

"I'm sorry, I don't like needles-"

"Oh shut up and get out of the way, bitch." Scott pushed Stevie out of the way before he sat on the couch. Stevie looked after him for a while, but then he turned to Peter, a hurt look on his face.

"And you put me with him."

"What he calls you in your spare time is none of my business," Peter said, "What matters is how you two will work together on the field, read me?"

Stevie sighed. "I guess, it's not like-" A loud, sharp scream interrupted the conversation. They all turned to Scott, who was on the floor, grasping his arm in pain. The tattoo artist held his hands up in innocence. "I don't know what happened, I swear it! That just happened!"

"Scott, are you alright?" Peter said, moving over to his student. Scott stood up and ran, pushing past Peter to the room. Tom and Terry reacted first, running after him, but Scott came barreling out of the room before they could stop them. He held his arm with one hand, and in the other, he held a book.

"What's going on?" Stevie asked.

"Let's find Scott and ask him," Peter answered.

* * *

Scott sat behind the bush he and Rob once drank behind, looking through the book. He finally found an entry that sounded a lot like what he was going through now. _Nightmare Demon._ He traced the words at the heading of the page. He'd been seeing things that Nightmare Demons would see. He'd been able to see exactly what would frighten each of his comrades, and he didn't really question it. Not when he was able to benefit from it.

As soon as his arm bubbled, he knew. He knew exactly what he was.

It wasn't fair. He was training to be a Nightstalker, and, all this time, he was what he would eventually hunt. He was a demon.

He ripped the page out of the book before throwing the book into the wild. He smoothed out the page and read everything Peter had to say about Nightmare demons, holding back his own anger and sorrow. _Sadistic, ruthless, uncompromising, merciless..._He read word for word what he was supposed to be, what their mentor said he was. He let out a guttral scream and ripped the paper into pieces, unwilling to see another words about what he was supposed to be.

"...Scott?" Scott whipped around, seeing Rob push aside a bush. "I had a feeling you'd be here."Scott stood up and walked toward Rob, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a gun and shoved it into Rob's hands. "Hurry up."

Rob looked from the gun then to Scott, an incredulous look on his face. "I don't understand- what do you want me to do?"

Scott grabbed Rob's hands, making him hold the gun correctly, putting his finger in the trigger. He lifted Rob's hands and pressed the mouth of the gun to his forehead. "You can't miss from here. Hurry up. Shoot."

Rob shook his head, moving away, "I... I can't... you can't ask me to do that."

"Yes I can!" Scott put his arm into prominence, showing the burned, corroded skin where the tattoo artist tried to put a triquetra. "You know what this means, golden boy. You know what it means."

"Scott, I know you," Rob said, "I've seen who you really are. This is some kind of trick, I know it. Just come back with me to the others and Peter'll find a way to fix it."

Scott laughed, but it wasn't the hollow laugh he planned on; this one was drawn out, manic and menacing. Scott reached out and took the gun from Rob's hands, Rob's surprise weakening any kind of fight he could have thought to make. Scott wasn't sure what he was about to do: half of him argued it would just be to scare Rob, to make him run away, but another half relished the idea of his plan.

"Put your hands behind your neck," Scott ordered, "Lace your fingers together. Now."

"Scott, are you insane-" Scott held up the gun, putting his finger in the trigger. "Do as I say, Rob." Rob's mouth opened, to say something, but Scott's demeanor told him he wasn't kidding. Slowly, Rob did as he was told, lacing his fingers together behind his neck. He watched Scott, wondering what he had planned.

Scott walked closer, until there was barely an inch of space between them, and he said, "Open your mouth."

Fear instantly marred Rob's features. "Scott, please, whatever you're thinking, don't do it-"

"Open your mouth, Rob." He commanded. Rob was going to protest but his body ignored his orders, instead opening his mouth for Scott. Scott smirked, remembering what Peter wrote in the Nightmare Demon entry: _He has the power to make you live through your worst fear. The more you're afraid of doing it, the more power he'll have over you._

Scott put the gun in Rob's mouth, the weapon muffling the whimper that escaped Rob's throat. Scott tried to deny the pleasure he gained from making Rob face his worst fear, but it was an exhilarating thrill. He wanted to feel this again and again, pull more fright from people.

Scott pushed the gun to the back of Rob's throat, recreating what happened about nine years ago with that kid. He could feel that Rob wanted to do something, but Scott was, somehow, stopping him. He didn't question it; he knew this was part of his abilities. "So this is how it feels," Scott said, "To hold someone's life in your hands." He moved the gun around a little. "To be able to choose whether you live or die." He turned his head to the side, almost studying Rob. "What were you saying before, Szatowski?"

"Scott! Don't!" A bang filled the air, and Rob's eyes widened. His arms fell to his sides and he dropped to his knees, thinking that he was shot, not knowing that the sound was only an illusion Scott made. Rob could taste the blood in his mouth, but he wasn't bleeding; the overwhelming senses made his brain shut down. Scott dropped the gun and looked for the voice, eventually seeing Stevie, Jim, Tom, and Terry. "What are you doing?" Stevie asked, "Scott, what's wrong with you? That's Rob!"

"I'm full aware." Scott walked over, brushing a hand over Stevie's cheek. "I know what your worst fear is, Steven Richards. Want to hear it?" Scott leaned in close and whispered, "You fear burning to death." He pushed Stevie away and, suddenly, Stevie's hand caught ablaze. He screamed and tried to beat it out against a tree, waving his arm, but it was no use. The fire was moving up his arm to the rest of his body.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" Jim yelled, as Stevie, for no apparent reason, screamed and slammed his hand against the tree. Then they noticed something that made them all gasp; Stevie's skin was blackening, turning to crisp.

"Stevie!" Tom shouted. Stevie fell to the ground, his body still darkening, his hair sizzling and burning. Terry pulled out his gun and pointed it at Scott. "You- what did you do?"

Scott shook his head and waved his hand, deciding he had enough talking. Tom began to feel himself drowning, water quickly filling his lungs, Jim felt a rope tie around his neck and pull, suffocating him, blocking his air supply, and Terry felt the sensation of a knife being plunged into his body over and over again. Scott laughed, watching them die from nothing but their own minds.

"You know what they say," Scott said, "There's nothing to fear but fear itself."

The words hit Rob like a train, breaking through his trance. Maybe it was because it sounded nothing like his Scott, or maybe it was because Scott's power was focused on his three friends. All Rob knew was that the blood in his mouth, the burning sensation he felt- it wasn't real. He didn't know why the illusion didn't kill him, but it didn't, and he wasn't going to sit around and watch his friends die.

He reached into his pocket and reached around, ignoring the taste of blood as his hand grasped his knife. He pulled it out and plunged the blade into his arm, fighting the scream that threatened to form, and the taste of blood was gone. He was on his knees, almost in perfect health, forgetting the dagger in his arm.

Rob's eyes fell on his gun and he crawled towards it, slowly, trying not to catch Scott's attention. He finally got to it and picked it up, forgetting his own fear and firing three shots at Scott. One ripped through his arm, one through his neck, and one through his back. Scott screamed, falling to the floor in pain. He turned to Rob, lip curled into a snarl and his eyes burning with anger, before he vanished. Rob stared at the spot, unable to believe Scott was gone.

Jim, Tom, and Terry all fell to the floor, sputtering and trying to catch their breath. Terry was bleeding uncontrollably, near death, and there was no hope for Stevie at all. Rob shut his eyes, wishing the scene away, but it remained. And the picture would burn into his mind forever.

*******************

Peter, Jim, Tom, Terry, and Rob all wore suits, standing on the edge of a cliff. In Peter's hands was a jar filled with Stevie's ashes. They all said their goodbyes before Peter spread the ashes over the water, letting Stevie go off into the wind.

Peter, Jim, and Tom both went back down the hill, heads down. Jim put his arms around Tommy's neck and began talking to him, trying to make his partner feel better after everything that happened. Peter, meanwhile, was completely quiet; he felt as if he failed all six of his students. Before they could even go off into the world, one was dead, and the other- well, he preferred not to think about Scott.

Terry was about to follow the others down the hill, but he noticed Rob looking over the water, showing no signs of movement. "You want me to stay with you?" Terry asked.

Rob shook his head. "No, I'll catch up. You go back to the house."

"It's not your fault, you know."

"I know." Convinced of his friend's honesty, Terry walked down the hill, leaving Rob to himself. Rob waited for Terry to disappear before he opened his mouth. "Thank you, Scott," Rob said, almost in a trance, "Thank you for making me face my fear. Now, nothing holds me back." Rob pulled out his gun, studying it. "One day, I'm going to find you, Scott. And when that day comes, I'll finally do what you asked me; I will kill you."

Rob walked down the hill, unaware of a pair of eyes following his every movement. Scott watched, a grim look on his face. "I look forward to it, Rob." He heard the batting of wings and looked overhead- a raven flew out of the tree, startled by the sudden talking. Scott watched it fly away, entranced, remembering a few lines from his favorite poem.

_Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore-_

_Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'_

_Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'_

One day, his old friends, his old comrades would call out his name. One day, they would face him again, telling him they couldn't believe that Scott would betrayed them.

And Raven would tell them that Scott existed nevermore.

**Reviews deeply appreciated**


	3. Shadows of Destiny

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera, or anything remotely recognizable.**

**I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.**

**This one was incredibly difficult to write. I don't know when I'll update, but Mickie's will be next still. Instead, I'm going to focus on the more lighthearted fics I have.**

**Warnings: Violence, psychological trauma, and character deaths.**

* * *

**Shadows of Destiny**

_**The efforts which we make to escape from our destiny only serve to lead us into it. -Ralph Waldo Emerson**_

Vickie Guerrero screamed as she swung the ax in a full arc, hitting the Bone Demon's neck. The flesh squelched and a shrill cry escaped the human-like monstrosity's neck, blood flying out of it's mouth and hitting her in the face. It didn't faze her at all; it wasn't the first time blood flew on her, and it wouldn't be the last. She brought the ax back and slammed it back into its neck, continually chopping until the last sinews gave away and the head rolled onto the floor. The Bone Demon's body fell to the floor as well, slumping down unceremoniously.

Vickie stepped back against the wall of the old, unfurnished wooden house, breathing in and out as best as she could. She took the ax and went over to the head, seeing the eyes roll around furiously, almost as if it were trying to find the body. She held the ax over her head before bringing it down, chopping the face apart, skin giving way to blood and bone. She kept crushing until she was sure there was nothing left, that there was no way it could return to life.

"Querida." A gentle hand grabbed the ax, pulling it out of her hand. She turned around and saw her husband and partner, Eddie, holding the ax with a frown on his face. She took a deep breath, his very presense instantly calming her. "It's over. It's dead."

Vickie threw her arms around her husband, hugging close to him. "This means it's partner's dead?"

Eddie nodded. The two were called over after friends and fellow Nightstalkers were killed trying to save a child from a Bone Demon and a Flesh Demon, who could control the very thing their name suggests. After a long time of planning, they finally came up with something that worked. Eddie finally patted her shoulder and pushed apart. "Querida, where's the child?"

Vickie shook her head. "I don't know. I didn't see him on my way around here. Maybe he's upstairs."

Eddie took off his jacket and wiped the blood off of Vickie's face gently, making sure not a speck was left. Wordlessly, he grabbed her hand and began leading her to the stairs. Soon, they split, looking down the hall as silently as possible. Vickie silently looked through the doors of the housing, seeing nothing but empty spaces and open windows. The breeze flowing through the windows into the hall chilled her to the bone.

As she moved closer to the end of the hall, she heard quiet, muffled cries. As she kept walking, the cries grew increasingly louder, making Vickie run to the room at the end of the hall. She opened the door and saw a kid, curled up into a ball, crying.

"Ay Dios mio," Vickie said, putting her hand on her heart. She ran over and knelt on level with the child, putting a hand on his back. "Love, are you okay?" She rubbed his back as he cried. "Sweetheart, you're free," Vickie said, "The bad people are dead."

"No..."

Vickie stared at the child's head, trying to understand. "No what, sweetheart?"

"The bad people are still alive." The child lifted his head, and Vickie saw that his eyes were completely white. "True evil never dies." She screamed and the child's hands reached out, grabbing her cheeks roughly. "I've been waiting for you," the child said, "Now, I will show you death."

Vickie couldn't move; her eyes were locked on the child's, and she was immobilized by fear. His small hands glowed white, and soon, Vickie's eyes turned white too. "You will know exactly how dark this world is. You will know exactly how strong we are. You will know exactly how your pitiful race will end- and you will despair knowing that there's nothing you can do about it."

"VICKIE!" Vickie pulled away when she heard Eddie scream her name. The boy's face distorted with anger at the sound of the interloper and he stood up, seeing Eddie point his gun at him. _I can't challenge death yet. I have to wait for my master, my Persephone._ He blinked and he disappeared into thin air, leaving Eddie and Vickie alone.

Eddie ran to Vickie, dropping to his knees and putting his arms around her. "Are you alright, Querida?"

"It was a trap," Vickie said, falling to weakness for the first time since she began hunting, "It was a trap." Eddie patted her back as she cried into his shower, trying to make her feel better, but nothing helped her stop crying after that experience.

_You will know... and you will despair. _

* * *

Vickie's eyes snapped open, the scream dying on her lips. Eddie was sound asleep next to her, unmoving. For what was another night of many nights without end, Vickie had another nightmare, filled with pictures of so many different things. Well, it couldn't be called a nightmare... but it couldn't be called a dream. Some of the images were as simple as a man slipping on a pair of socks, and others were as complicated and as frightening as murder, as crime.

She saw love, hate, fear, hope, death, life, and everything in between. She saw the mundane and the exciting, the good and the evil. And no matter what she did, the pictures would replay in her head the next morning, sometimes distracting her during missions. Was she losing her sanity?

"Querida?" Vickie turned as Eddie took her hand into his, still half asleep. Eddie's eyes fluttered as he said, "What's the matter?"

"Something's wrong with me," Vickie said, trying not to break down. Eddie sat up, rubbing his eyes to make himself alert.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm... seeing things..." Vickie said, trying to put it to words.

"What things?"

"I don't know-" Vickie felt tears welling up in her eyes, and Eddie pressed his lips against her forehead.

"Querida, maybe all this hunting is getting to you." Eddie squeezed her hand comfortingly. "How about we take a break for a while? We can relax and you can clear your mind. What do you think?"

"Y- yeah, that sounds good," Vickie said, "A vacation-"

"That's right. We can visit with Rey and Chavo's families. Their boys are growing so big." Eddie smiled softly. "You should see Chavito now. He's going to be strong, just like his father. And Little Rey's just a little ball of energy. Rey sent me a picture of the boy- he's jumping off of trees and climbing on furniture."

Vickie smiled, the picture of her nephews entering her mind. Chavo and Rey were both only six, named after their fathers, and were practically the apples of her eye. They made her think that, maybe, she'd one day have children of her own. She'd heard that some hunters, when they'd eventually retire, were able to start families and lead pretty normal lives. Maybe one day, she and Eddie could have a family all their own. "Maybe that's exactly what I need."

"Good," Eddie said. He pressed another kiss on the hand he was holding, and then another small one on her lips. "You're going to be fine."

"Yeah," Vickie said, although she sounded almost absent when she said it.

* * *

"No _fair!_" little Chavo whined, his voice echoing through the Guerrero's small house.

"Very fair!" Rey chanted, sitting on Chavo's back. Chavo wiggled around and scratched at the floor, trying to get free, but Rey kept the pressure on Chavo's back. Vickie picked up Rey and said, "Alright, nenito, come with me."

"But I want to play!" Rey whined.

"It's time for your nap." Vickie still had the weird hallucinations, but being in the relaxing environment, around family and friends, helped a lot.

"But what about Chavo, Tia?"

"Don't worry about Chavito," Vickie said, "Only worry about yourself, little one." Vickie brought Rey to his room, and he kept on trying to make deals to stay up later.

"Five more minutes?" Rey tried.

"No."

"Three more minutes?"

"Rey, my love, you need your rest," Vickie said, rubbing his head.

"One more minutes?" Vickie began laughing, and she carried Rey to his bed, sitting him down. She got him into a pair of pajamas and then said, "Go to bed, Rey."

"Tia?"

"Yes Rey?" Vickie asked.

"Where do you and Tio Eddie go?" Rey asked, "You two always go away for a long time. I miss you, Tia."

Vickie smiled and placed a kiss on Rey's forehead. She sat down and quietly, in Spanish, explained that sometimes, a person's duty came before what a person wanted to do. Rey nodded the whole way, and then he said, "Tia, I want to work with you and Tio Eddie when I grow up." Vickie shook her head. Rey and Chavo would stay clear away from the world of demon hunting if she had something to say about it.

"Your duty is to school," Vickie said, "And then, you can find a job wherever you want. But you don't want to follow your Tio and I."

"But why, Tia?" Rey asked, "If you and Tio do it, why can't I?"

Vickie rested her hand on Rey's head. "There are so many things I wish for you, for you and for Chavito. I want you two to grow up, to go to school. I want you two to find wonderful women and start beautiful families. I want the world to be your oyster. Rey, there is nothing for either Chavito or yourself in the world your uncle and I live in."

"Tia?"

"Yes?" Vickie asked.

"If it's so bad, then why do you and Tio Eddie do it?"

_Because someone has to, and since we're already fucked up, it might as well be us. _Vickie smiled softly. "Time for bed, my love. It's a story I'll share with you another time, but only if you take a nap."

"You promise, Tia Vickie?"

"Yes." Rey grinned, the innocence of a child shining through from the gap in his teeth to how messy his hair was, and he cuddled into the covers, trying to get to sleep. Vickie watched him with a motherly feeling, thinking about how her burden was worth it, so long as she could keep Rey and Chavo in perfect safety.

One day, she could imagine Rey doing anything, but the one thing she didn't want Rey to do was fall into the demon hunting business.

******************

Vickie eyes snapped open, the vivid pictures playing over and over again, all sense bleeding through her fingers. It was a pain she understood too well, the pain of loss, the pain of losing grip in such a manner that she could feel absolutely nothing.

It was a good friend of theirs, Yoshihiro. Vickie saw nothing but pools where his eyes should be, blood soaking his body and dyeing his clothes a deep brick red. She couldn't see his partner, Darren, anywhere around; it seemed he wasn't there to keep Yoshihiro from falling prey to a demon.

She stood up, hands shaking. There was no way that one of the many hallucinations she saw every night was real. It was just an illusion. Vickie must have been going insane, the images breaking her down until she had a nightmare about someone she actually knew, rather than people who, in all likelihood, didn't exist.

But it felt so vivid, just like the other images that made their way through her mind. It hurt too much, seeing one of their own, one of their friends, dead like that. Yoshihiro and Darren, Benny and Dean… the Guerreros counted the two other Nightstalker groups as their closest allies. And for so long, all three groups were able to dodge death that Vickie thought there would be a day when the six of them would be old and gray, talking to each other about how they perfectly executed a plan, or about how they finally found themselves able to kill a particularly tricky demon.

Vickie had no way to be sure Yoshihiro or Darren would pick up her call; they had absolutely no way of contact when the groups were hunting. But she had to try, had to try to assuage the fears that her delusions put her through. She called their number, each ring making her stomach sink even more, until the message began to play, Darren's English accent filling her ears.

"Darren? It's Vickie," Vickie said softly, "Just, call me back when you get this, okay? Call me back." She hung up the phone before sitting back on the bed. Eddie wasn't here; he was probably drinking with his brother, catching up on all they missed over time. Vickie just decided to go to bed, hoping that Darren would return her call sooner rather than later.

* * *

Vickie stared as Eddie spoke on the phone, his whole face falling as the conversation went on. She couldn't hear anything; all she knew was that all her worst fears were being realized at that very moment. The hallucination was real. It came true. Yoshihiro was dead- and the demon that killed him gouged out his eyes to keep as a trophy.

Eddie hung up the phone and turned to Vickie, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Querida, it's going to be okay." He didn't sound so sure of what he was saying; in fact, he sounded like he was lying to her. "Querida, I know, it's horrible, but we'll get through this. Darren will get through this. We will be alright."

Vickie shook her head. Her eyes were completely dry; they couldn't spare a tear for her poor, lost friend. "Eddie, something's wrong with me," Vickie announced.

"No, you're alright Querida. It's just the shock. You'll be fine…"

"No. Listen to me. I'm sick. There's something wrong with me." Vickie swallowed before saying, "I saw it happen, Eddie. I saw him die. I knew he was going to… oh God, I knew…"

"There's no way you could've known it," Eddie said, trying to remain calm for both himself and for his wife, "I'm telling you, you're just reacting to the fact he died, and that we weren't there to help him. But there's no way you could've known this was going to happen."

His words made Vickie pull away. "You don't get it," she said, "God, you don't get it." She shook her head and backed up.

"Then help me understand. Querida, I want to help you." Eddie's face shone with genuine concern, and Vickie wondered how she could possibly begin to make him understand the curse she seemed to be under.

"I've been having dreams," Vickie said slowly, "At first; I thought they were hallucinations, but… not anymore. Eddie, I think I'm seeing the future." Vickie unloaded about every dream she had, regaling Eddie with details to show him exactly what she was seeing, making sure he understood the kind of turmoil she was under.

Eddie listened, his attention not faltering once. He wanted to say something, something to comfort her, but he didn't even know how to make heads or tails of the story himself. All he knew was that she was seeing things, and from the sound of it, each was prophetic. But it was impossible; regular humans didn't just come by powers. "But how?" he finally got out.

_You will know... and you will despair. _

The words replayed in her head. It was just those two sentences, not a single other line that came out of the demon child's mouth. "The demon. The one that looked like a child. He told me that I'd know. I think he gave me the ability to see the future."

"But why, Querida, Why you?" Vickie shook her head, no idea how to answer.

It was the very question she would ask herself decades later, when she'd see hunters come and go, all asking for advice, all wanting to know the future. And despite her power, she couldn't even understand why she was the one who needed to see the future. It was the one question she couldn't answer.

*******************

_"Mama!" A loud wail filled the room, reverberating off the walls, thick blood oozing down the wall. Rey was on the floor, crying, trying not to look and the body against the wall. There was a bandana in the midst of the blood pooling on the floor- the small head it was once around was unrecognizable. _

_"Look at me." Rey shook his head, keeping his eyes covered, falling back on the age old adage that, if he couldn't see the threat, it wasn't there. The demon grabbed his arms and pulled them away from his face, making Rey gasp. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" The demon had gray, leathery skin, almost stretched across the human like body. There was not a single hair on his body, and his nostrils were like a snake's. The skin crinkled as he smirked, eying his prey._

_Rey's bottom lip trembled, wishing his cousin was still here with him. "Papa!" Rey shouted out, "Tia! Tio!" Rey began praying in fluent Spanish, begging God to save him. The demon laughed before lifting him up. Rey kicked as his legs left the ground, and he began crying harder, stumbling through the prayer._

_"There is no greater motivation than a death or two in the family," the demon explained, before tugging on Rey's arms, extending them farther than any child's arms should ever go._

Vickie screamed, wanting to see anything but the stomach curling image of her nephew being dismembered. But it replayed in a constant refrain, repeating over and over until she was reduced to tears.

She could see the future. And in it, her little nephews were going to be killed.

Soon, Eddie was with her, but she couldn't hear a thing he was saying. She just kept crying, trying to think of some possible way that she could keep Rey and Chavo from getting hurt.

Soon, she was able to speak, trying to overcome her weakness. She hated feeing powerless like this; her visions had reduced her into something unrecognizable from the hunter she once was. She couldn't even imagine ever holding a weapon again; she had seen too much death, and she would continue seeing it so much, that she wanted nothing more to do with it.

But the maternal instinct she had told her she would do anything to protect those children.

"Querida, the future isn't set in stone," Eddie said, after hearing the story. Although the news made him want to break down, he had to remain strong for Vickie. He put a hand on her shoulder and said, "You and I can stop this. Just calm down and let's think rationally."

_He's right... calm down, Vickie... Rey and Chavito need you... _She took a few deep breaths, trying to relax herself, before she wiped the tears from her face. "I can't let that happen to them," Vickie said, "They had nothing to do with this."

"I know. And we won't let it happen to them. Don't worry, Querida." Eddie stood up and went to the phone. "I'm going to call Benny and Darren, see if they can get here. The more eyes we have, the better."

Vickie nodded, getting up and passing by the rooms the children were sleeping in. She laid a hand on Chavo's door, silently hoping that they could stop this from happening. She'd so long hoped they'd never have to face demons- now she could only hope that they'd get out alive. Vickie moved her hand away and went to her suitcase, throwing clothes out until she got to the false bottom. She pulled it out and began looking over her arsenal of weapons.

No one was going to harm her nephews.

* * *

"Look, me and Benny are on our way," Dean said, sounding very sympathetic over the phone, "Eddie, don't worry about it. How can you even be sure Vickie's actually having visions?"

"She saw Yoshihiro die," Eddie said, one hand on the phone, one resting nearby his gun. Vickie didn't say when the demon was coming, so he needed to be ready. "I'm not taking chances, not after that."

"But how is she seeing these things? I mean, she has the tattoo. She's not a demon."

"I don't know, Dean, okay!" Eddie shouted. He stopped himself, trying to calm down. "All I know is that my wife is seeing these things, and for some reason, they come true. I'm not going to question it; I'm just going to keep another tragedy from happening."

An uncomfortable silence followed, so Dean moved the conversation away from that topic. "You got in contact with Darren?"

"Yeah. He said he'd meet up with us soon."

"I can't believe Yoshi's gone," Dean said mournfully.

"I know." Eddie gripped the phone. "I can't let my little nephews go the same way."

"We won't let it happen," Dean affirmed, "Give us a day; Benny and I will make tracks as soon as possible."

"Gracias," Eddie whispered. He hung up soon afterwards; his friends were on their way. All that was left to do was to protect the kids until they got here, and that he had no problem doing. His family always came first, no matter what.

* * *

Chavito and Rey's parents went out to dinner on Vickie and Eddie's prompting. They couldn't let the boys out of their sights, just in case the demons decided to follow their families out. Vickie was positive that the demon was after the children, and that their parents could, at least, remain in the dark. Hopefully, the children could also go on without knowing that there were ever demons in their lives.

After they put the children to bed, Eddie and Vickie sat by the door of the room, guns at their sides. "You could go in there too, Querida," Eddie said softly.

Vickie shook her head. "We're stronger as a team." Eddie smiled and grasped her hand momentarily, but then he let go, keeping alert. Hours went on like that, and Vickie wondered if anyone was even coming. She tried to keep herself from nodding off, pinching herself and pacing every now and then.

Eddie began pacing after a while, frustrated by the lack of show, but also kind of relieved. Perhaps it would happen when Dean and Benny and Darren arrived. Suddenly, Vickie grabbed his arm. "What is it, Quer..."

"Shh." Vickie put a finger to his mouth, and then he heard something. It was almost like a mouse scampering around the floor, the scratching getting louder and louder. Vickie and Eddie put their guns up, preparing for whatever it was.

They kept waiting, but nothing came. Vickie moved forward hesitantly, her gun still up, looking for the cause of the sound. But the hall was as empty as it was before. She slowly backtracked, still keeping her gaze on the darkened hallway.

"MAMA!" Vickie whipped around so quickly that she gave herself whiplash, the one shriek breaking through her professional nature. She began running back to the room, seeing Eddie slam the door open and lift his gun.

Eddie immediately shot out three rounds, each pushing into the demon Vickie saw in her dreams. Each one pushed him back, away from Chavo, who was on his bed, shivering. "Chavito, down!" Vickie shouted in Spanish. Chavo nodded, going under his bed quickly. Eddie ran into the room, running toward Rey as Vickie shot at his head.

The second bullet hit his forehead, making his eyes roll back and fall to the floor. Rey shuddered in Eddie's arms, too afraid to even scream. Eddie put him on the floor and said, "Rey, go." Rey paused, but Eddie screamed out now in Spanish, and Rey nodded, running out of the room. Meanwhile, Vickie closed in on the demon's body, ready to check if it was dead or just stunned.

Vickie pulled out her knife, ready to make sure the demon would never retun, but then it bolted upright. The momentary shock was enough for the demon; he grabbed Vickie by the collar, lifted her with ease, and then threw her into the small trundle bed. She screamed, the impact spreading pain through her entire system. She scratched and clawed at the edge of consciousness, trying to rise, but soon, she feel deep into the recesses of her mind.

* * *

Vickie woke up, feeling a small hand shake her. Her eyes focused on Chavo, whose eyes were filled with nothing but pure fear. He crawled onto the bed and snuggled next to her, and she realized he was holding a gun. She took it; it was warm, as if it were fired recently. "Chavito...?" Vickie said.

"I didn't want him to hurt you anymore," Chavo said, hiccuping as his voice broke. She realized what happened and held him close. Chavo was obviously broken up over what he did; a six year old should never have to kill anything, not even a demon. Vickie dropped the gun and pushed Chavo aside, wondering what could have possibly happened.

She immediately turned around, pulling Chavo close, hoping the sight wouldn't scar him. She carried him out of the room, hoping she didn't cry. She had to remain strong for the boys, even if she felt like self destructing. She closed the door and pulled him into the living room, calling out for Rey.

"Tia?" Rey crawled out of under the table, running over to hug her legs. She couldn't help but wonder how this night could've effected Rey. "Tia, I want to leave. Where's Tio?"

Vickie put Chavo down and patted their shoulders. "Go to the car, okay? Put on your shoes and go straight to the car."

Chavo immediately did as he was told, and Rey followed after giving Vickie a look that repeated his question. She grabbed the keys and went to the car with them. She loaded them inside and began driving away, not willing to think about what must have happened while she was unconscious.

She didn't sleep for three days after the horrible incident. But when she finally did go to sleep, she saw exactly what happened once she fell unconscious.

_There's no cheating fate. No matter what you try to do, you can't rob the devil of it's due. I tried to mess with fate, and look what happened. Rey and Chavo might not have died, but the balance took something else from me. And he later became the motivation the demon came to the house that fateful night to achieve._

_If Chavo and Rey had died, my love would've followed them three months after. Consumed by rage, he would've murdered countless demons, eventually slaughtering an incredible 17 in one battle before falling himself. It would've been one of the most remarkable feats in Nightstalker history._

_Since we did interfere, and my love was taken instead of my nephews, the balance chose another to go on the rampage. One of our own friends, a man I knew as Benny. Anyone who saw him hunt called him a wild animal, a wolverine. And he decimated hundreds of demons before eventually dying himself, on the very soil he called home._

_Dean and Darren decided to team up to train a pair of Nightstalkers themselves. Their names were Brian and Paul, and the two would become prodigious hunters in their own right- before falling themselves._

_And that night did change the boys. Chavo became antisocial as he grew up, Rey developed a habit when he was sixteen to help repress the memories of what he saw and heard. Their only salvation was in the life I once wished to keep from them. I have seen their futures, seen the demons, literal and figurative, that they've got to fight._

_I have seen people come and go. I saw a muscular, bald, trash talking Texan barge into the building, beer can swinging out his hand. I saw a young latina girl with brown hair and an incredible ability who would soon move in with me. I saw a passionate young blond Canadian that I would one day tell that he couldn't fall in love._

_And each time, each time I saw someone new, I fell into deep despair. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to keep them from feeling, but the balance always gets it's way. A life for a life. A deed for a deed. I couldn't directly interfere, not without destroying someone else's life._

_There is no greater curse than seeing the future... and knowing that I'm unable to stop it._


End file.
